Cookies and Christ
Stories of Faith And Recipes
From the Second-Story Roof’s Eave
In the 1970s our home had one rotary phone on Dad’s desk. We were not allowed to use it without permission. Sometimes when I had finished all my chores, I would ask Mom if I could call my best friend, Jenea, who lived next door, to see if she wanted to come over and hang out. Mom would tilt her head to the side and ask why I wouldn’t just run next door. Most days I did just that. However, sometimes Mom would let me sit in Dad’s oversized office chair and call Jenea from the rotary phone.
My fingers would meticulously dial each number: 3 7 4 2 2 2 8. I would wait in great anticipation as it began to ring. Once Jenea answered, we would talk for a while as I spun around in Dad’s chair – feeling like I was a super important person having a super important conversation. Moments after hanging up, I’d sprint outside to meet Jenea!
For many years, I shared a large second-story bedroom with two of my sisters. One summer, Mom shook up the bedroom assignments and I was assigned to the bedroom with a second-story window facing Jenea’s second-story bedroom next door. It wasn’t long before we realized that with an open window to let a few breezes in, we could hear each other talking. Bedtime became one of my favorite times of the day. Jenea never understood why it was so early, but she would head up to her room when I went to mine and we would talk to each other each evening. Sometimes it was a bit hard to hear each other as we were trying not to talk too loudly for fear of being muted by parental forces.
I realized at (too) young of age how simple it was to remove the screen from the window and climb out onto the second story roof eave. We talked every night for what seemed like hours. I felt safe perched on the roof eave and at peace divulging my deepest thoughts to my friend.
During this time, my spiritual progression was focused on learning that prayer is communication between us as children on earth and our Father in Heaven. I experienced this as we prayed together as a family in our home multiple times each day.
My parents wanted each of us to try and understand how personal the relationship can become between us and God. The concept became crystal clear to me once praying was likened to talking with a good friend. I learned we can tell Heavenly Father anything we want and that He loves to hear about the things that make us happy and the things we are worried about. I could easily nod in understanding. This is EXACTLY how I talked to Jenea each night.
As summer came to an end, I received another bedroom reassignment. It turns out nighttime roof chats had been reported to a couple of parents and with school beginning soon, apparently my bedtime routine needed to be altered…
I had been challenged to try praying to Heavenly Father as if I was talking to a friend. With my nightly ritual of discussing EVERYTHING with a friend being abruptly modified, I was willing to try talking to my Father in Heaven instead of Jenea. It was different, and yet the peace I felt in talking over my joys, struggles and all things in between was comforting. I loved the familiar feeling that Someone out there thought I was important, and that my thoughts, hopes, struggles, and dreams were worth listening to…
-JC
Andes Mints Topped Chocolate Sugar Cookies
1 cup soft butter
½ cup vegetable oil
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
1 ¼ cups powdered sugar
2 eggs
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla
¾ cup cocoa (I use 6 Tablespoons regular, 6 Tablespoons dark)
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter, oil and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Scoop out approximately 24+ 2” balls of dough. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly and refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 degrees for 12+ min.
Immediately pull from oven and place 2 Andes Mints on top of each cookie. Place a drizzle of white melting disks melted and mixed with a few drops of green food coloring onto melted Andes mint. Swirl with the back of a spoon. Let set. Share!
Unfairness In Four-Square
Drops of bright red blood fell and were quickly absorbed by his shirt. He leaned forward and the next several drops hit the pavement. My classmate was dramatically outraged drawing the attention of the on-duty faculty supervisor.
Moments later, I was sitting in a hard plastic chair outside the principal’s office.
I couldn’t believe how unfair it was that I was wasting my only opportunity during our 7th-grade schedule to get a little fresh air outside after our lunchtime.
Not only was I missing out on chatting with friends and potentially a little more four square- but I was potentially facing disciplinary procedures.
…all because of a dumb boy….
A group of us had been playing four-square during our post-lunch break. The combination of my undersized body and underdeveloped athleticism exaggerated both weaknesses. Nevertheless, I wanted to fit in and hang with my friends so I took my turn in line and rotation with the four-square group. It seemed as though I was immediately seen as an “easy out”. Unfortunately, my efforts repeatedly proved my competition correct. I rarely progressed out of the first ranked square immediately returning to the back of the line.
On this particular day, the kid occupying the square with the highest rank had been serving the ball and a hefty dose of verbal sarcasm and taunting. He also took grand delight in playing on my weaknesses and sending me to the back of the line.
Eventually… I had all I could take…
After I missed yet another ball spiked in my direction, I retrieved it and with all the grit my undersized frame could muster I threw it back to him. In my mind, I hoped for a cartoon type result where the ball had the strength to send him backward twenty feet…
Instead, it only grazed his nose but struck with such an angle causing a bloody nose.
I fought off tears telling myself to be tough as we were called into the principal’s office. I was angry and ill-equipped to keep my emotions in check ironically landing my classmate and I square in front of the principal.
I listened to the account of events from beneath my classmate’s soiled tissue. I thought he was ridiculous but sat in silence withholding rebuttal.
My punishment was equally ridiculous. I was told to follow my classmate around outside for the remainder of our free period with extra clean tissue…
I perceived it to be completely and absurdly unfair….
The parallel…?
My mortal journey through life thus far, (and continuing through today) is littered with elements that seemed unfair. My weaknesses can truly be a source of substantial frustration until I realize, and remember what they can actually do for me. They help me understand that as a mortal -with physical, mental, emotional and spiritual limitations- I will never feel “enough”. It’s the adversary’s greatest work that I believe even momentarily that in my insignificant feelings, I:
Quit trying to improve…
Quit trying to believe in God and my existence through Him…
Or quit trying to understand and use the blessings of the Atonement of Jesus Christ DAILY in my life.
As a young teenager, I was drawn to the goodness and hope that Christ could help make weak aspects of my life stronger- and the way was through Him. The literal path made available because of His sacrifice for me, His drops of blood…
-JC
Lemon Cream Filled Cookies
1 ¼ cups soft butter
1 ½ cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon lemon extract
Zest of 1 lemon
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Cream butter and sugar on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Stir in egg, lemon extract and lemon zest. Don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once. Scoop out 16 1.5” balls of dough and roll into balls. Flatten slightly. For richer flavor and smoother texture, refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Place cookie dough balls onto parchment lined baking sheet and bake for 10-12 minutes; don’t underbake. Immediately press down center of cookie creating “edges” using small measuring cup. Fill center of cookie with Lemon Filling. Drizzle with Lemon Glaze. Let set. Share!
Lemon Filling
3 eggs
1 ½ cups granulated sugar
6 Tablespoons lemon juice
3 Tablespoons whipping cream
6 Tablespoons flour
¼ teaspoon salt
Whisk together all ingredients in a saucepan and cook over medium-low heat until thickened. (About 8 minutes)
Let cool and spoon into freezer strength Ziploc until ready to use.
Lemon Glaze
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
1 cup powdered sugar
Blend lemon juice and powdered sugar until smooth. Spoon into ziploc until ready to use.
Getting Noticed
One summer morning a few weeks before sixth grade was to begin, my best friend and neighbor, Jenea got a hot tip that ALL of the cute boys from our class were over at Kurt’s house for some backyard football. Jenea and I brainstormed about how we could get noticed…
Should we casually be in his neighborhood?
Go “visit” his sister?
All the ideas we came up with seemed to expose our obvious intentions…
We usually spent our summer mornings riding bikes. I always got up extra early to do my assigned household and garden chores so that by the time Jenea leisurely woke up and ate her pop tarts, (I was so jealous) I would be ready to go play.
On this particular morning, we planned to just simply be out on a bike ride and happen to be riding by Kurt’s house.
From my view, there were two major problems with this flawed plan:
Kurt lived on a big hill with no sidewalks and my mom’s rule was that I had to ride on sidewalks unless I had special permission. To get special permission, I had to endure the parental barrage of seeming 100 questions… Therefore, special permission rarely seemed worth the price. Especially in this case – how would I answer the most obvious question of “Why do you want to ride up or down that huge hill? “
I certainly could not tell my mom “So that I can get the attention of cute boys… “
The second problem with Jenea’s plan and the most prohibitive of reasons…
I only had a little kid bike, not a cool 10-speed bike. How embarrassing! There was NO WAY I was going to be seen on purpose by the cutest boys in school on my little kid bike!!
Jenea was the natural leader in our friendship. I can’t remember how she resolved problem #1…
Or if…
But problem #2 Had a simple resolution in her mind…
She said I could borrow her younger sister’s 10-speed bike.
So off we went cruising down the streets of Sidney, Iowa without a care in the world. We stayed on the flat streets for a while as I got used to Jenea’s sister’s awesome 10-speed bike! Before long, we were both riding with no hands as we sat back in the seat and let the wind blow our summer sun-bleached hair. We felt totally cool…
“Let’s go! “Jenea said and we headed up the hill to Kurt’s house. We chugged up the hill and to our surprise, the boys were all hanging out in the front yard! We tried to act cool by not breathing too hard as we pedaled up the steep hill. We exchanged a few breathless “hi’s” and turned the corner just passed Kurt’s house. This street was a dead-end cul-de-sac. We stopped to catch our breath. There was only one way back home… Back down the hill we just climbed and back by Kurt’s house.
Jenea suggested to really make an impression we ride without hands right as we passed by his house. She took the lead. I was right behind her.
Moments later we were back by Kurt’s house. Jenea sat back on her bike seat and I followed her lead. We were so cool!… And we knew it…
However…
In a split second, I ran over a rock that knocked me off balance. I tried to put my hands down quickly and navigate the hand brakes but I couldn’t. Instead, an epic CRASH ensued…
Right past Kurt’s house… Where all of the cute boys STOPPED playing football to see my personal catastrophe…
In that moment of personal despair and complete humility I picked up Jenea’s sister’s bike, wiped some tiny rocks off of my face, and pedaled as fast as I could to catch up to Jenea …
Two weeks later when school began, I still had scabs and scrapes all over of my scrawny knees and elbows…
So why does this experience remind me of the gospel of Jesus Christ?
Because this experience parallels my earthly journey.
I need to navigate God’s rules.
I seem too often to want to look cool, be cool, and successful.
I make plans, set goals, and surround myself with good people.
But despite my efforts… I will always FALL short… Always…
The Atonement of Jesus Christ is not the back-up plan for if my “Plan A” doesn’t work. … It is THE plan! Heavenly Father knows I’m not perfect. He sent a Savior to help me (each of us) -to pay for my mistakes. shortcomings, and lonely heartaches.
And- Heavenly Father blessed me with the Holy Ghost to:
-Guide me
-Direct me
-Comfort me
-And Influence me.
As I strive to listen better, I hear the Holy Ghost whisper… He whispers to me the very things I need to hear.
Often, I hear him whisper to me:
“Get up… “
“Wipe the tiny pebbles off of your face… “
“You’ve got this… “
“Keep going…”
“Keep trying…”
“Your Savior is here for you.”
“There’s hope and happiness ahead…”
“Heaven is cheering you on!”
-JC
Mississippi Mud Cookies
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup oil
3 XL eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup cocoa (I use Hershey’s special dark)
2 cups + 2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
Mix together sugar and oil. Stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add all dry ingredients at once, stirring until well incorporated. Add 1-2 additional Tablespoons flour for high elevation. Chill dough for three hours. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Scoop out 24+ 1 ½ “ balls of dough, and roll each into a ball with hands. Flatten slightly. Place on parchment lined baking sheet. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes.
Drizzle marshmallow cream onto center of each cookie, then sprinkle approximately 12 mini marshmallows onto each cookie. Return to oven for 2 minutes.
Remove from oven and immediately drizzle chocolate glaze onto each cookie. Let set. Share!
Chocolate Glaze
⅓ cup heavy whipping cream
½ cup chocolate chips
½ T butter
Heat all 3 ingredients in microwave for approximately 30 seconds. Stir until smooth. Spoon into freezer strength Ziploc bag until ready to use. When ready to use, snip small hole into bottom corner of Ziploc and drizzle as desired.
My Fears: Ferocious Beasts and Stranger Danger
I had officially been reassigned…
There was one paper route in our southwest Iowan town. Our family was lucky enough to have the opportunity to deliver the Wednesday only free newspaper. Mom knew every house in our small town, and they were ALL to receive the newspaper each week. Mom would draw a map of each street detailed with every house and then carve out delivery routes. Each Wednesday after the newspapers came to our home, Mom would work to bundle them with the exact number in each bundle we each needed for our group of streets. There were two extraordinary things about the paper route delivery day. First, Mom ALWAYS made a pot of chili to warm us after we returned from our routes. Second, the three dollars earned for my efforts. Most of the money I earned went toward something I was saving for. The few dollars earned each week were always well spent ahead of time. I would map out on the calendar how many weeks it would take for me to collect what I was saving for. Nevertheless, I would ALWAYS spend 25 cents at the DX Gas Station on a treat on my way home! It was typically the only treat I had each week and I would savor every bite.
Occasionally my sisters would return from school and there would be a new map drawn up with a change of assignments. However, my route never seemed to change. I had a few streets that were long with only a few homes. I didn’t mind the route and no one else wanted it… Until one day…
I arrived home and glanced at the new map Mom drawn out. I immediately pitched a fit of retaliation. I had always had the southwest corner of town; however, on this day, I had officially been reassigned to the northwest sector. My protests were simply ignored and I was dropped off at the curb on the furthermost street in our town where I was to begin my route. I always made it a personal goal to run between each home and finish my route as quickly as possible. I resolved to do the same with my new route and began delivering newspapers.
One particular house was a bit dingey. I ran extra fast and as I dropped the paper at the front door and turned to run down the sidewalk to the next house, I was met by a ferocious beast of a dog with remarkably long legs, an extraordinary amount of hairy fur, and teeth like I imagined that of a huge shark!. I was terrified! I had been bitten before on my route and feared this day would end with my name and picture on next week’s herald with the headline “ Girl Destroyed by Giant Dog-Like Creature”. I screamed in terror and ran as fast as I could, skipping the next several houses as the dog chased me. I turned the corner and finished the next street with an eerie feeling that someone was following me. I collected a thread of courage to turn and look to see who it was and confront the stranger who was completely creeping me out. It was a man-child. He looked like a man but acted like a child. He carried a small notebook. Not much larger than his man-sized hands. He seemed friendly, but I had been warned of stranger-danger in my childhood just like any other child in any other town. However, I was under the impression our town didn’t have any strangers. Everyone seemed to know absolutely everyone…
He asked me to write my name down in his notebook. I told him I couldn’t because I was busy delivering my papers. I began to run to the next house and he ran after me requesting my name again. I told him I wasn’t allowed to put my name in notebooks and I ran to the next house. He ran after me relentless with his request. I was now running late with my route and really craving the warmth and safety of chili and cornbread and being tucked securely at home. With immediate regret, I wrote my first name in his notebook and handed it back to him. He refused to take it. He said I needed to write down my phone number too. In a moment of panic yet wanting desperately some resolution, I wrote down my friend’s phone number, handed back the notebook, and sprinted my way throughout the rest of my route and all of the way home. My typical DX treat was delayed until I regrouped and purged my horrific experiences with my mother.
That evening she got exactly three calls about people not receiving their newspaper. All of them from my route. I returned with my mom to the home of the ferocious beast where I warned Mom to be careful. She agreed to stand watch as I delivered the skipped papers and sprinted back to the safety of the car in between. The terrifying -part monkey, part dog, part shark creature was nowhere to be found…
Back at home with my DX treat in hand, I recounted my frightful experiences to Debbie, my older sister who had previously delivered that route. I felt great respect for her having walked the literal paths she took with bravery and courage each week. She told me how to navigate the ferocious beast and the name of the boy who has special needs and just wanted to be friendly. She told me as soon as I say hello to him, he would stop following me. She seemed so wise to me as she proved to be correct on all points of concern.
I felt remotely validated and renewed in my plight the following week. But mostly, I felt safe. There were no more unknowns lurking on the unfamiliar streets. I could progress without fear.
As I reflect on my sister’s calming tone as she explained to me how to navigate the paths she took, I realized it’s a similar plight in following Christ.
In studying of Him and the paths he took, and learning of Him, I come to know Him. I begin to ascertain that my fears simply originate from thoughts of things I don’t understand and are the absence of faith. And this is exactly where Christ meets me.
It’s right where His perfect love catches me as my fears seem to paralyze me.
He comes to me.
He meets me right where I am in all of my imperfections and mistakes.
He loves me.
He waits patiently as I try to grapple for the strength to reach up and take His hand, and find a moment of peace in Him, enduring as long as I choose to hold on…
-JC
Oreo Cream Cookies
¾ cup soft butter
4 oz. softened cream cheese
½ cup vegetable oil
2 cups granulated sugar
2 XL eggs
1 teaspoon clear vanilla
3 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups (approx. 18) cut up Oreo Cookie pieces
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter, oil and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Gently stir in Oreo pieces. Scoop out approximately 28 2” balls of dough and flatten slightly. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 degrees for 12-14 min. Let cool. Drizzle with Vanilla Icing. Press crushed Oreos onto the top of each cookie. (I crush 12 Oreos to garnish tops of cookies) Let set. Share!
Vanilla Icing
⅓ cup whole milk
2 ¾ cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon clear vanilla
Dash of salt
Blend all ingredients until smooth. Transfer into freezer strength Ziploc until ready to use.
The Raging Storm
The summer sky evolved into a green-gray color…
We often sat on the front porch swing watching the midwest storm roll in.
Amidst the eerie silence, occasionally the town’s tornado warning siren would ring out. My best friend’s dad, our neighbor, was a volunteer tornado spotter. I watched him exit out his back screen door, light his Marlboro cigarette and back down his driveway with a complete, yet mysterious calmness.
The short-lived stillness preceded the acceleration of wind, leading to lightning strikes, thunderclaps that shook the house followed by rain. Once the siren sounded, we knew the drill: check in with Mom and enter the cellar to wait out the storm. The cellar was dark and cold. I felt trapped. I longed to be able to see what was happening outside the safety of the concrete walls. I hoped someday to be invited to ride along with my friend, Jenea and her dad to serve as a volunteer tornado spotter. I had seen pictures and heard reports of a tornado’s destruction, but nothing “real” ever happened in our town. It wasn’t often that the warning lasted long, nor seemed scary. We would emerge from the cellar following the “All Clear” siren and typically the sun made an appearance drying the rain-soaked sidewalks as if the storm never happened.
One particular storm was accompanied by a power outage. Dad turned on an old portable radio to listen to the progress prediction of the storm. It was reportedly an advanced category tornado. Destruction was imminent. We all listened and were quickly silenced if a question was attempted. The mood in the cellar was different. The intensity was thick. The storm raged outside. I imagined some of our garden being damaged by the wind and hail. I hoped my bike would be okay. The wait was longer than it ever had been and the reports of damage painted a grim picture for nearby farmers. For the first time, the cellar felt like a place of refuge. I was grateful for its protection from the storm and peace in being together as a family.
We lived in southwest Iowa. It was tornado season. Severe weather was NOT out of the ordinary. The aftermath of this storm temporarily closed the main road outside of our town. The tornado’s path was an unprecedented half a mile wide. A few weeks later as we drove to church, we noted in disbelief the twisted trees and barren ground. Had the tornado’s path been a few miles in a different direction, it would have resulted in desolation of our small town.
Following this storm, I took tornado warnings a bit more seriously. I was more attentive to Mom’s need for help and prayed more diligently for the safety of our town and neighboring farmers. I certainly sighed in deep relief when the storm had passed and the sun re-emerged signaling all was calm.
In life, storms- both literal and figurative are going to rage. It’s the very nature of biometric pressure changes and our mortal journey. The sunny days where no threat is imminent is the EXACT time to prepare. Learning of Christ was largely a figurative process requiring imagery and faith. I was young. However, I was blessed with the opportunity to learn, test and try to understand forces greater than my eyes could see. Perhaps it was a bit of a gamble…
What if the Bible and other books that testified of Christ were just fictitious stories, and believing and living life with a faith based primarily in Him produced nothing but facts and frustration?
Or…Would the effort of choosing to come to know for myself, expanding my faith, talking with God, believing in Christ and all things possible in and through Him be worth the absolute work required?
I had no idea how hard, nor rewarding the latter would be. I was just a regular girl in a small town- embarking on a path of choosing to believe…
-JC
Chocolate Cake Cookies with Salted Caramel Frosting
Chocolate Cake Cookies
1 boxed chocolate cake mix (15 oz.)
1 3 oz. package instant chocolate pudding mix
6 tablespoons oil
3/4 cup sour cream
2 eggs
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Mix all ingredients together on medium high for 2 minutes. Scoop out 24 -1¼” balls of dough onto cookie sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake at 375 degrees for 14-16 minutes. Let cool. Pipe Salted Caramel Frosting onto cookies. Garnish with sea salt as desired. Let set. Share. Enjoy!
Salted Caramel Frosting
8 oz. softened cream cheese
½ cup soft butter
½ cup caramel dip (T.Marzaretti’s or similar)
3 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
Pinch of salt
Cream cream cheese, butter and caramel dip on medium for 1 minute. Stir in powdered sugar. Stir in vanilla and salt. Whip on medium high for 5 minutes. Spoon additional caramel sauce into gallon size freezer strength Ziploc forming a “stripe” from one corner up the seam. Spoon frosting into the same Ziploc and set aside until ready to use.
Herding Cows
We were working together as a family in the pre-dawn hours. The task was illuminated with reflections of headlights and intermittent emergency flashers. Like my family, I was dressed in my Sunday best. Essentially- I was moving a thousand-pound animal back to where it belonged. The mood was complete calm. “This” is how I was raised…
Growing up in the midwest, I learned that Iowans seem to live by a few simple cowboy/farmer codes of behavior:
You quietly work hard without complaint.
You help your neighbor when they need it.
You reap what you sow.
I watched our community live by these codes of conduct. It was a safe and happy place to be.
My Dad was given the tireless opportunity to serve as our church congregation’s Branch President. He was asked to help the members of the local branch with their spiritual progression and to make sure their temporal needs were met as well. I didn’t understand much as a young girl regarding the details of his call to serve for hours each Sunday in meetings, and counsels. However, I often saw him on his knees in prayer and in his home office with closed doors as he gently spoke on the phone with love to those who sought out his aid. Sundays were days of service. Before dawn, my dad drove us in the family station wagon to church. After the meetings and worship service, we tried our best to patiently wait for Dad to finish his (God’s) work for the day so we could return home.
One Sunday dressed in our best, we napped in the back seat on our way to the neighboring town where we attended church. Without warning, Dad slammed on the brakes, flashed his brights a few times and turned on the car’s red flashing emergency lights. He parked the car in the middle of the road, and told us- “Girls! We need your help!” We all quickly filed out and soon realized we were not alone in the street on that early Sunday morning. A local farmer’s cows were out…seemingly ALL of them…
I knew from my Iowa upbringing that dangerous car accidents occurred with livestock having found a hole in a broken fence-line and wandering into trouble. It was a double tragedy: Potentially fatal car accidents, AND a farmer losing an important resource.
Dad had us spread out and form a line around the herd. We were told to put our arms straight out from our sides (making us seem visually larger to the cows?) On Dad’s cue we were to slowly walk forcing the herd back towards the farmer’s property. Dad made “cow sounds” mooing as he walked, and I followed his lead, doing the same. I was amazed that a ten-year-old girl and her sisters could help move a herd of cows…From the middle of the road…Back to where they belonged…Safely behind a fenced enclosure.
Absolutely everything Dad told us to do worked perfectly. We walked the cows back into their pasture through the hole in the fence from where they emerged. Mom had gone to alert the farmer and he was already working to repair his fence as Dad and us girls brought the cows back home.
When the job was finished, we returned to the car and finished the drive to church as if the experience we just had was completely normal behavior. Perhaps I thought it was.
Certainly working hard and helping others along their way was a normal way of life. Perhaps that’s why as I learned at home and church of Christ, the stories and messages were seemingly easy to believe. I saw this behavior in the world around me. Thus, a book of scripture with accounts of a man who dedicated His life to serving God- seemed more like a non-fiction history book than a far-fetched unbelievable fantasy.
Growing up in Iowa and having hard-working faithful parents: I was one of the lucky ones. I know it. My parents talked of Christ, taught of Christ and lived in a way to honor Him and His role in our lives.
My choice was to individually and independently learn, or neglect the simple teachings and ignore the proof of the existence of God that surrounded me.
-JC
Gingersnaps
½ cup oil
½ cup soft butter
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
½ cup molasses
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 ½ cups flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons ginger
½ teaspoon cloves
½ teaspoon nutmeg
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream oil, butter, sugars, and molasses with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Scoop out approximately 24+ 2” balls of dough. Gently roll into granulated or coarse sugar. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly and refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.
Bake at 375 degrees for 12+ min. Let set. Share!
My Earliest Memory
My earliest memory as a child has virtually no sound. Recalling it seems like a slow-motion rendering of a moment in time.
However, it’s completely vivid:
The colors surrounding me, or lack thereof…
The silence…
The helplessness…
And yet the complete feeling of peace….
And then, in an instant, without resolution, the memory is over. I have no recollection of what happened next. Or who came to my aid…
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I asked my mom about it. For most of my life, I assumed it was a hard exhausting day of parenting… or an innocent moment of distraction.
In times of reflection, I discern my life to be filled tender mercies from God and angels- seen and unseen- who’ve helped me along my way. As I began to ponder more on my first memory I wanted a level of clarity. Did God intervene?
In a non-judgemental moment filled with curiosity and courage, I finally asked my Mom about the day I nearly drowned.
She had no recollection of any such event. I told her I thought I was about three years old; though not completely certain. I told her I thought we lived in the apartments in Omaha, Nebraska.
I told her my memory of the event is simple…
I’m in the water…
I’m falling…
Slowly…
My eyes are open…
I see the water around me, other people- but none of them close by…
I see the edge of the pool- too far away for me to reach…
I’m nearing the bottom of the pool…
And that’s it…
In the blink of an eye, it’s the end of my memory of the event.
My mom explained to me that when we lived in those apartments she would often hire a babysitter to watch my sister, Debbie, and me while she ran errands with the baby. She said the babysitter would often take us down to the pool to go swimming. The babysitter had never told her of any near-tragedy…
Since asking my mom about this event a few years ago I’ve continued to give it much pondering and thought. Experts say the earliest memory you have as a child is often a tragedy or great triumph. So, which one best describes this event in my own life?
I continue to have many unanswered questions. Primarily, who saved me? And why didn’t I die in an accident that day?
I completely believe in life after death. I believe that our journey on this earth is only a small portion of who we are and the existence of life. I believe life began before we were born and continues after we die. So, why was I granted more time on this earth instead of finishing my progression into a spiritual realm?
As a Spirit in a pre-mortal place and time, I believe I fought for the opportunity to come to earth. Perhaps there was more I needed to do in learning and growing during my mortal state in proving to God that I’m still willing to fight to return to Him…
Perhaps I needed to pass through difficulty, confusion, frustration, and triumph in faith to come to know my Savior and choose to embrace His help on my journey home…
And so I’m still here- experiencing “life”.
I recognize the power of the gift of agency and the impact of my daily choices in determining the course of my life. I also recognize the power of the gift of a family. I believe it’s by God’s design that we are blessed to be a part of a family. It helps us better understand God as our Father in Heaven, and our Brother, who is our greatest advocate, even our Savior, Jesus Christ.
I now recognize that in a moment of despair, with no ability to change my own course, an angel- seen or unseen- stepped in.
The rest of the story is up to me.
Will I continue to fight as hard in this earthly journey as I did when the war raged in the pre-mortal realm?
Will I work to return to my heavenly home and serve God in helping others to come unto Christ as I strive to do the same?
As for today…
I commit to try…
-JC
Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar
6 T vegetable oil
2 eggs
1 ½ cups canned pumpkin puree
2 ⅓ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 cup mini chocolate chips
Mix sugars with oil on high speed for 30-60 seconds. Stir in eggs and pumpkin puree. Add dry ingredients all at once and stir until well combined. Stir in chocolate chips.
Scoop out 24 -2” balls of dough onto cookie sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake at 375 degrees for 14-16 minutes. Garnish with icing and mini chocolate chips if desired. Let set. Share!
Racing Ducks
Throughout the years, I would often head out for a run… just to think… One warm fall afternoon, I set out for a quick run along the easement road next to the irrigation canal near our home. As I relaxed into a cadence and let my mind begin to unwind, I noticed a duck swimming in the canal next to me. He seemed to keep turning his head over and looking at me as if to chart my speed and match it. I can be ridiculously competitive at times… I guess this was one of those days because I challenged the duck to a race… I quickened my pace and laughed to myself as the duck began to swim faster. Again I turned up my intensity and the duck followed suit. I was running at a great pace as we neared the first crossroad. Without even as much as a nod, The duck took off flying.
“Cheater!” I gasped.
Throughout the rest of my ‘race’ he was a hundred feet in front of me and would often take flight. I had to surrender the win to the duck and took the time to ponder my initial assessment. Did he cheat by taking flight? Or was he simply using his resources? After all, he had wings….
I am committed to live a life with my Savior Jesus Christ as my wings. He is my most valuable resource as I sojourn through life. Through Him and because of Him, all things are possible.
My conversion to Christ is a story filled with ups and downs: shortcomings and moments of success. But mostly, it is a story of hope. I hope I continue to recognize Christ’s light in the people around me. I hope I follow Christ’s example in seeking out the will of my Father in Heaven and trust in Him. I hope I replace fear with faith in times where life’s burdens are seemingly unbearable and unjust. I hope I push aside the adversary who works to create doubts and a divide to convince me efforts towards a testimony of and a relationship with Christ are worthless or impossible. Above all, I hope that I recognize it is in and through the greatest resource God has blessed me with- my Redeemer, my Advocate, my Savior Jesus Christ that I can be strengthened to not quit… to keep trying and keep believing in a brighter tomorrow. For truly Christ is the hope and light of the world.
My question for today:
If Christ were to return tomorrow, what would He find me doing?
Merry Christmas! May you choose to seek Him whose birth we celebrate today!
-JC
Reese’s Peanut Butter Brookies
Make a brownie mix according to package directions. (I like Ghirardelli.)
Spray pan with Pam Baking spray. Spread brownie batter into 9 x 13 pan.
Bake at 350 degrees for 22-26 minutes.
Remove from oven and sprinkle with 12 Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups cut into small pieces.
Sprinkle with 1+ cups of milk chocolate chunks or chips.
Drizzle with 1/3 – 1/2 cup melted peanut butter.
Mix up a batch of Peanut Butter Cookie dough.
Form 1/4-3/8″ thick pieces of Peanut Butter Cookie dough with your hands and piece together a layer of cookie dough to cover the baked brownies. You will not use the entire batch of dough.
Bake an additional 15 minutes at 350 degrees.
Remove from oven. Cookie portion of bars will be soft, but will set up nicely. Over baking them will result in crunchy cookie and dry brownie layers.
Let set. Cut. Share.
A Mother’s Journey: The Easy Days
Twenty-six years ago, as a new mother, I entered into this role with no idea of how to succeed. It was hard. Were there times of incomprehensible joy? Absolutely!! There were also times of immense doubt and incredible exhaustion with a hefty dose of insecurity. There were many days where my efforts can only be tagged as “Complete Fail…”Gratefully, there were also many days where I turned to my Savior and my Heavenly Father for help.
As a young tired mom in moments of desperation, I would simply pray to my Father in Heaven and ask “Are you really there?”
It was a simple prayer, where I would be blessed with a simple reassurance motivating me to keep trying.
Progressing to the next season of parenting, my prayers as a mother changed. I would pray for the safety and protection of my children, or even that they would have help in making a free throw at the end of a tight basketball game.
As seasons continued to change, my momma prayers changed again. I had learned that fear is the absence of faith. I knew my children couldn’t survive in the world today solely with miracles that I had prayed for on their behalf. But rather they needed to learn to pray with their own faith.
My journey as a mother thus far?… It’s been a crazy roller-coaster type ride. Here’s what I know today-
We grow and progress as we faithfully accept challenges. Life is hard. It’s God’s plan for our progression. And although it seems momma-bear instinctive to want to protect my family from the difficulties of life, it’s okay that life brings hard days for my children. I didn’t see tender mercies and feel God’s love and Christ’s grace with the greatest intensity on the easy days…And neither did my children…
My truest desire is for my children to independently come to know Christ. I want them to follow Him in faith and partake of salvation through Him. I want them to turn to Christ in their moments of struggles and again in gratitude for strength received beyond their own. I want my children to be drawn to Christ’s light and emulate it back into the world around them. I want them to experience true joy that can only be found when we forget about ourselves and go about busy in Christ’s work in fulfilling the will of our Heavenly Father.
-JC
As I reflect today, I ask myself:
Will I follow Christ’s example in making my primary purpose for my life to do the work of the Father?
Am I consistently true to my knowledge of Christ?
Chocolate Chip Brookies
Make a brownie mix as directed. I like Ghirardelli.
Spray a 9″ x 13″ pan with baking spray. Bake for 22-26 minutes or until done. Sprinkle brownie with 1 ½ cups semi-sweet chocolate chips or Oreos.
Pat together 1/4- 3/8“ thick pieces of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough to cover brownies.
(You won’t use it all.) Return to oven and bake an additional 16-18 minutes. Remove from oven. Cookie portion of bars will be soft, but will set up nicely. Over baking them will result in crunchy cookie and dry brownie layers.
Let set. Cut. Share.
Chocolate Chip Cookies
½ cup soft butter
½ cup buttered flavored Crisco
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 XL eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
Cream butter, Crisco, and sugars with an electric mixer on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Stir in chocolate chips.
Oreo option:
Set Oreos (either whole or cut into pieces) onto baked brownies. Gently press down. Then follow remaining instructions for Chocolate Chip Brookies.
Milk Chocolate Chip Option:
Set 6 1.55 ounce milk chocolate Hershey bars onto baked brownies. Use milk chocolate chips in Chocolate Chip Cookie dough. Then follow remaining instructions for Chocolate Chip Brookies.
The Tiara
In sixth grade, Jessie came home from school one day wearing a tiara. She sat on a kitchen bar stool eating a peanut butter and pretzel snack like nothing was out of the ordinary… even though she was wearing a tiara. Bryson walked in and asked, “Where did you get that crown?””
“P.E.” Jessie replied.
Bryson, having had the same teacher in sixth grade knew exactly why she was wearing a tiara. I was still incredibly confused. Jessie acted coy regarding her sparkly head-piece. I asked Bryson to please explain the bling adorning my daughter’s head.
He simply said, “She’s the Dancing Queen!”
I was amazed that my daughter could be the Dancing Queen as my own dancing talent mirrored my singing talent. Jessie filled in the gaps of information and even did a little demonstration of her dance that won her the title. I delighted in her humility, kindness and pleasant demeanor. I hoped she would forever carry herself with such confidence.
As Jessie prepared to enter high school our lives changed dramatically. Both of her brothers had graduated high school and left home to progress with their goals and ambitions. Our family had packed all of our possessions into a U-Haul truck with a destination of two states away. We felt like we were on God’s errand, following His will, but it was hard. Jessie says, “I distinctly remember praying for the same confirmation my parents had received about our move. I felt an overwhelming peace. This peaceful feeling continued as I said goodbye to my friends and I felt a great excitement to meet new people and have new experiences.”
However, hard days, being a victim of bullying, and intense loneliness followed. My momma’s heart broke for her. She recalls the first few weeks of her Freshman year feeling sad and completely alone. She says, “I had let Satan convince me that there was no one who knew what I was going through and that no one could help me. Satan did not want me to know that I was loved and that Christ’s Atonement could give me strength.”
Jessie said her desire to be happier sent her on a search to know if Christ was really always there for her and loved her as she had been taught. She studied the strengthening power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. She continued to pray and was blessed with peace and reassurance that Christ was there for her in times when she needed Him and even in times where she didn’t realize how much she needed His help. She felt comforted and her burdens lifted acquiring a sure knowledge that she was not alone.
Two years later, our family moved again. Jessie possessed incredible warrior-like courage. This move was different. Tough times were still aplenty, however, her resolve was unshaken. I could see that her source of strength was not her own; for she had truly learned that her strength comes from Christ. She carried herself with confidence and held her head up as if she were wearing an invisible tiara. Not earned because of a great dance move, but rather because of her knowledge that her Heavenly Father and Savior Jesus Christ know and love her. Jessie is strong, beautiful, and fearless because she truly understands the enabling power that is accessible to us all through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
-JC
As I reflect on this experience today, I ask myself:
Do I allow Christ to help me bear the burdens of mortality?
Do I let my doubts of my own abilities cloud my vision of who Christ is? Or where He is in my life?
Funfetti Cookies
1 cup soft butter
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
1 ¼ cups powdered sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ teaspoon almond extract (optional)
3 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup sprinkles
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter, oil and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until fluffy.
Hand stir in eggs, vanilla and almond extract; don’t overmix.
Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation.
Stir in sprinkles.
Scoop out approximately 24+ 2” balls of dough. Gently roll into sugar.
For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly and refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 degrees for 12+ min. Let set. Share!
Cookies and Christ 